To Die is Nothing
by E.S. Moore
Summary: Danielle De Chagny had recently come to Paris from London. Her brother, Raul, had sent for her. In truth, she was very excited to be in the city. Apparently, the poverty was extreme and she, in her youthful ignorance, fancied she could clear the streets of the homeless and destitute. But she soon finds she is not the only one wishing to help these people. T for safety.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: A new beginning

**A/N: Well, here goes! I was originally going to do an Eponine/Enjolras fic, but there are so many out there I just didn't want to add another one to the mix. So, enter Danielle! Also, yeah, there is going to be some Phantom of The Opera stuff in it. Because I couldn't leave it out. But not enough to warrant a crossover I think. **

Danielle De Chagny had recently returned to France from a prestigious friends residence in London. Her brother, Raul, seemed to think she would be benefited by 'polite society' and so sent her to the Lady Baybridges' home for refinement. The Lady traveled in all the best circles and seemed a suitable companion and mentor for Danielle, so she went to England for two years.

Before her sixteenth year, when she was sent to London, she lived near the sea with her brother. But eighteen months before her scheduled return Raul had sent word that he had leased the chateau and bought a townhouse in Paris. He neglected to explain the reasoning behind the abandoning of their childhood home, but told Danielle she needn't worry. In truth, she was happy for a chance to finally behold the city of Paris. Apparently the poverty there was extreme and she, in her youthful ignorance, fancied she could singlehandedly clear the streets of the homeless and destitute. SHe believed God had a plan for her in this new city, and it excited her more than anything.

It was these giving, selfless tendencies that had caused Raul to send her away. Her behavior was 'unladylike' and 'vulgar', as Lady Baybridge told her that first day in London. They hadn't spoken of it after that, but the honorable Lady was constant in her degradation and condemnation of those already degraded and condemned. There was little Danielle could do to help the people in the last two years, apart from pressing several francs in the hands of the needy when Lady Baybridge looked away, so she was particularly eager to get to Paris and renew her old habits. London society had been unable to crush her compassion.

* * *

She had arrived at the facade of Rauls' beautiful place in the early evening on a warm March day. Her heavy orange traveling dress made her uncomfortably warm and her legs ached from sitting for such a long period. She stepped from the carriage and smiled at the sight that greeted her. There was a large garden leading to the house with trees and flowers of every variety on bloom. The smells and colors were complete heaven to her. The housekeeper, Annette, was there to receive her. She seemed to be a bit older than Danielle, but she had a timeless look about her. Her bright blue eyes sparkled with enthusiasm for life, her thin lips stretched into a perpetual smile, her thin auburn hair had been pulled into a bun, but pieces had escaped and were flying about with as much carefree abandon as the bearer itself. She rushed forward and curtseyed.

"Welcome Milady. I am Annette, the housekeeper, and this is my Husband, Alain," She gestured to a the man unloading Danielles' trunks, "The Vicompte is at the opera, but whatever you need I am happy to supply."

Danielle nodded and stepped into the simple building. It was much smaller than their chateau, but still beautiful. It was really only a bit larger than the common middle class home, which surprised Danielle. In fact, the further she ventured into the house, the more astounded she became. It was perfectly ordinary. There was no cream or gold upholstery, no floor to ceiling windows, and no expensive nick knacks on display everywhere you turned. It was something from a dream. There was beautiful paper covering the walls in cheerful colors, comfortable, sturdy furniture, and space enough for a party if need be.

She felt as though Raul had somehow seen into her mind and picked the tenement of her childhood dreams. But no more did she feel this than when she stepped into what Annette declared to be her room, across from Raul. There was pink and white wallpaper, along with pictures of various flora and fauna, on the walls. There was a vanity with a washbasin in the corner, a large wardrobe on the wall next to it and a changing screen in the opposite corner. A shuttered window took the wall between the vanity and screen, with a bed on the opposite wall. It was like a fairy land to Danielle, who had lived in opulence with ostentatious people for too long. She had always preferred the simple, pretty things over the garish objects of fortune.

* * *

Settling into this new life had proved easier than Danielle expected; she was the toast of French society. It appeared as though the trip to London had been a success; there were French gentlemen attempting to woo her, French ladies emulating her, and French parties to be witty and charming at. But she knew how fickle the bourgeois were, her popularity would change with the next gust of wind. Raul had recently become the patron of the Opera Populaire and was gone more evenings than not. Danielle didn't mind, of course. It gave her an opportunity to put on her ragged green 'visiting dress', cover her light brown hair with a kerchief, rub dirt on her face, and walk across the Seine to her favorite part of town. Being a proper lady, she had to be under constant chaperone, which in this case was Alain. She had sworn him to secrecy; she did not want Raul to find out she hadn't completely given up her old ways.

She hastened to the Mondetour alleyway, where her new friend, Sabine, lived. It was a dirty, narrow way, with the scratching sound of rats going to and from the shadows, and the odor of squalor permeating the air. But she had built an immunity to these things in Dunkerque; the impoverished were impoverished whether in the capitol or a seaside town. She stopped at the fourth door to the right and knocked. A small girl, younger than Danielle, answered.

" 'Ello, Elle." She greeted, smiling wide and exposing missing teeth.

"Good morning Sabine!" Danielle grinned back, "I brought a basket today." She held out to the girl with one hand and rocked it back and forth, "Are you going to take it?" She teased.

"Mamselle, 's too much." She stated, large brown eyes wide. Danielle shook her head emphatically.

"It's not too much." She stated, pulling things out of the basket, "I brought bread and cheese, some meat, applesauce, and preserved pairs. Oh, and here's the medicinal herbs, and wine. Wine's good to keep warm." She looked up from her inventory, "See, no money, no pity. Just one friend helping another." She waited, hoping Sabine would accept. The other girl chewed her chapped lip thoughtfully and furrowed her brow.

" 'Aright, maman'll want it." She decided. Danielle smiled in relief and handed over the basket. She's been careful to wind a pretty ribbon around the handle for Sabine; the girl probably wouldn't notice it, because if she did she wouldn't accept it.

"Here's the basket. I'm sorry I can't stay. Raul will be home soon and I should be there." Danielle apologized. She's told Sabine about having a brother but 'accidentally' left out the fact that he was a Vicompte. Sabine nodded, smiled, and closed the door.

Danielle turned to keep walking down the alleyway, while Alain stayed four paces behind. Ridiculous Bourgeois customs.

"Alain, you can protect me just as well beside me as behind me." He nodded and moved to walk next to each her, "Sabine is the eldest of four children. Her father died two years ago and her mother is working in a factory by the river. Sabine takes care of her siblings every day." She turned to Alain, to see if he was at all impressed; he smiled at her indulgently, "I hope that one day I might be as brave as these people."

They emerged in front of the Cafe Musain to boisterous voices and loud music; the lights shone on the pavement and made the entire place seem warmer. There were several students entering the the cafe, jesting and laughing like old friends; it seemed such a joyful atmosphere. A pinprick of light and happiness in such a dismal place. Danielle looked to the second story, where another man, another student, by the looks of it, was standing in a large window, looking down at the world below. Looking down at her. She blushed, fidgeted with her skirts, and glanced back up. She couldn't clearly see his face, but he was still there, staring, statue-like, into nothing.

She suddenly felt very conscious of her haggard and dirty appearance. She wished nothing more than to be in one of her beautiful dresses with satin shoes, her hair in elaborate braids and curls, her face scrubbed clean. She was never considered a beauty by any standard, but wearing beautiful things certainly helped. Even so, there were many ladies with great beauty among the wealthy of Paris, but when there is an overabundance of something - anything - it gradually becomes ordinary. And then the ordinary things are beautiful. She looked back to the window and breathed a sigh of relief. He was gone.

"The Gorbeau family is just across the street, then we can go." She informed Alain, crossing to the one room tenement the aforesaid family inhabited. This time she left the basket on the porch; she didn't have time to knock and take many minutes convincing them to accept her charity. Although the basket was devoid of a ribbon, it did have ten francs in the bottom. She straightened and turned to face Alain.

"That's all for-" Instead of Alains' warm, open face she was met with a rigid, cold visage of someone whom she believed had never laughed.

"What are you doing here?" It asked, emotionless.

"I don't see as how that's any of your business." She replied icily and looked past him to see if Alain was still there. It was dreadfully improper to converse with someone you hadn't been introduced to, and even more improper to be alone with said person. Alain was standing some feet away, looking unsure as whether or not to intervene. Now, most men in polite society would have been cowed by her tone and subsequent dismissal. But apparently not this one.

"It is my business when it concerns these people." He gestured to the houses around them in general. She turned her gaze back to him and raised a condescending brow.

"Are you the King of France?"

He made no answer.

"Then these peoples lives are none of your business. What I'm doing here is none of your business. You are neither my father nor my brother that I need answer to you. Do you even know these peoples names, monsieur?" She swept past him with her most regal air, which must have looked quite ridiculous, considering she was dressed as a pauper.

"Are you not one of these people?" He murmured as she passed him. Her heart leapt, was she to be so easily found out? She knew she was a terrible actress and her fear must have shown on her face, so she turned away and made no answer. She composed herself quickly and flashed him her most dazzling smile, curtseyed, and walked away from the Cafe Musain.

* * *

** A/N: Guess who the annoying student was! (I'll give you a hint: not Marius) What's you think? I'm going to try to keep it all as historically accurate as possible. Except for the Opera House, it's too far away from the action so I'm going to have it be closer. Is it good? Bad? Ugly? **

** So please review! I would love any feedback. It's so exciting!**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: A night at the Opera

Danielle spent the next five days avoiding the Boulevard Saint-Michel, where the Cafe Musain was located, but she knew that Sabine and the Gorbeau family needed her baskets for medicine and nourishment. It was selfish of her to stay away simply because she wished to hide from a pesky student who asked too many questions and could figure out too many things. If it were exposed that she was a bourgeois she wouldn't be treated the same by the poor. She would be nothing but money to them; nothing but a rich, unfeeling aristocrat who couldn't possibly know or care for their plight. All trust would be broken, and she couldn't bear that.

Danielle was walking in the garden, thinking on these things, when Raul stumbled towards her from the shrubbery. She paused and waited for him.

"Danielle! Do you remember Christine Daae?" He asked, but didn't pause for an answer, "She's the new Prima Donna at the Opera, and I love her." He finished triumphantly.

"You love her already?" She asked skeptically.

"We were children together." He explained simply.

"Yes. But, Raul," She struggled to find polite words to express her hesitance, "That was a very long time ago. People do change."

"But our love has stayed the same." He sighed, "I expected you wouldn't understand it, but I thought you'd at least be happy for me." He reprimanded her gently. She sighed and started walking down the pathway once more.

"I'm very happy for you Raul. I hope she's everything you deserve."

"She's more than that, Danielle! She's perfection itself." He summarized in a dream-like state.

"Then you should do everything you can to keep her." She advised.

"Oh, I plan to! I plan to do everything in my power to keep her happy." He swore to the general vicinity and turned to Danielle, "You must come to the Opera tonight! You can see Christine perform and meet her afterwards."

"Raul, I'm not sure that's a good idea. I'm not feeling well." She lied and instantly felt terrible. But it was for the Gorbeau family.

"Nonsense! Everyone's been asking why my charming sister never comes to the Opera with me and I've run out of excuses."

"Tell 'everyone' I ran away with a tree trimmer." She muttered bitterly. He ignored her.

"And it would be a good opportunity to debut that fashionable blue dress I gave you!" He finished triumphantly.

"Oh, well, naturally, if it means I can wear my blue dress." Her voice was laced with sarcasm.

"I knew you'd do it Danielle! You'll love her, I promise!" Then he bounded off to who knows where, looking astoundingly like a lovesick puppy dog. Danielle sighed heavily and sank onto a nearby bench. Through her sarcasm she had agreed to go to the Opera, thereby postponing her trip to the Rue Saint-Michel for another day. She decided Raul would be too distracted to notice she was missing, and if he did Annette could tell him Danielle had gone to the market. She could make two baskets quickly enough, but she may not have time to change her clothes, so she threw on a bonnet that would hopefully hide her features.

She enlisted Alain as a chaperone, but asked him to stay in the shadows if he could; people would not recognize her, but they most surely would recognize his tall stature. They made their way quickly to the Rue Saint-Michel and down the Mondetour alleyway to Sabine's door, where Danielle left a basket. It wouldn't do for her friend to see her like this. She strode to the end of the alley and glanced around to ascertain that no one was there. When she saw it was clear, she hastened to the Gorbeaus' door and left the second basket. She turned back and made her way to Alain. When she was halfway across the street, she heard a sound and looked back to see a young girl digging through the basket, eating the bread and pocketing the money.

"Excuse my, what's your name?" She asked gently and started walking toward the girl, who looked at her like a scared animal, then put on her guard and gave Danielle a cool, undaunted expression.

"Eponine. And I've got just as much right to be here as you." She responded.

"I don't doubt it, Eponine. I'm Danielle. You can take that basket, if you like." She offered, "Do you come by here often?" She inquired before Eponine could refuse the gift. It was a trick she'd learned years ago. Eponine would no doubt refuse the basket, and pride would keep her from taking it even if she changed her mind. If Danielle changed the subject the gamine couldn't say yes or no to the basket; it made everything so much easier.

"Come 'ere every night. Marius and 'is friends meet at the Cafe over there." She gestured to the Cafe Musain. Danielle had no idea who Marius was, but Eponine talked as though he were the King.

"What do you do there?" She questioned.

"I mostly listen to 'em talk." The girl admitted.

"Well, that sounds lovely!" Danielle smiled.

"You should come." Eponine decided, "You should listen, hear these boys talk. They sound so smart sometimes." She smiled for the first time; a shy, almost blushing smile.

"Perhaps I'll do that, thank you Eponine! I'll see you then." Danielle wanted to talk to the girl more, but she needed to get back before her brother missed her. As she was turning to go, she saw the nightmarish form of the impudent student walking toward the Cafe Musain; toward her. He saw Eponine and nodded and nodded to her, then his gaze seemed to travel in slow motion, coming ever closer to her. He was still walking forward, but her feet seemed rooted to the ground. Every instinct told her to leave, to run as fast as she could, but something held her back. Just before their eyes met she turned her head so her bonnet hid most of her profile and nearly ran to Alain. She giggled at her close escape and walked on.

"Alain, would it be too much trouble to take another basket to the Gorbeaus residence tonight? I gave the other to a new friend." She called back in Alains' general direction.

"Indeed, Mademoiselle. Shall I put ten francs in the new basket?"

"Of course, Alain. Good of you to ask." She answered crisply.

They made short time back to the townhouse, and Danielle was hard pressed to prepare herself before Raul came to her door. Annette had come to help her dress and together they pulled on the aquamarine gown and piled her hair atop her head in curls and braids. She put her mothers locket round her neck and a diamond bracelet on her wrist; the effect was complete. The dress had flounces and yards of lace, it was exceedingly beautiful. She was a princess, it was such a lovely feeling.

Raul knocked on her door and together they walked to the carriage. They traveled east on the Rue Saint-Anbine as Danielle studied her brother intently. He was gazing out the window, but appeared to be looking at nothing, there was a crease in his brow and a nervous expression in his eyes. Something was not right.

"Is something amiss?"

"No," He answered and patted her hand reassuringly, "Everything's fine." It was a shame she didn't believe him; he always patted her hand when he was lying.

The Opera house was very grand, with marble pillars, floors and staircases, cream and gold gilding, and every other manner of abundance. It gave Danielle a headache; she just wanted to go sit down and read the book she'd stuck in her reticule. Raul had dragged her to a group of gentlemen nearly the instant they'd arrived. He introduced them and imparted on a fascinating dialogue of the Opera and its' funding. Needless to say, it was incredibly tedious, but what _was_ interesting to Danielle was the matching look of fear on the two managers faces. It was the same one Raul wore.

* * *

It was a really magnificent Opera, Danielle was sure; she just preferred her book. Raul would occasionally tap her shoulder and she'd look up and tell him, again, how lovely and kind Christine seemed. She was very thankful to the girl, Raul was completely focused on her and seemed to overlook that Danielle was reading a novel at an important social event.

A young man sat in the seat beside her and cleared his throat. Danielle peeked from the pages of her book to see him; he was handsomely dressed and had a kind and awkward expression. He looked between her and the book as though weighing whether or not to speak to her. Deciding to save him the trouble, she closed her book quietly and turned in her seat to face him.

"Bonjour." She smiled.

"Bonjour, Mademoiselle." He spoke gently.

"I'm Danielle De Chagny. Raul's sister." She inclined her head as a replacement curtsy.

"Pleased to meet you." He took her hand and kissed it, "I'm Jean Prouvaire, But I prefer Jehan." He smiled self-consciously. Danielle remembered the book in her lap and held it for him to see.

"I'm reading 'Sense and Sensibility' by Jane Austen. Have you heard of it?" It had been published quite a few years ago and was very popular in England, but Danielle didn't know how it had been received in France.

"I have. 'Piracy is our only option'." He quoted. Danielle laughed lightly, and if she'd been paying attention at all to the Opera she'd have heard a new, angry voice yelling from the rafters.

"I wanted to be a pirate when I was young!" She divulged, as though it were a great secret, "I read stories of Anne Bonny constantly. The book disappeared when I was twelve." She leaned forward conspiratorially, "I think Raul hid it. I never saw it again." Something happened onstage and one of the managers came out, announcing the ballet from Act three. Christine was going to sing the lead now. Danielle turned back to Jehan.

"Did you see what happened?" She asked.

"No, I didn't. I'm sorry." He blushed. She waved her hand dismissively and smiled at him.

"It's not important, I've paid no attention anyway." She raised her eyebrows, "The music in this Opera is beautiful. So enchanting and mysterious." She closed her eyes, listening. The tempo was speeding up, and the music reached a crescendo. Then, there was a scream, and another, until members of the audience screamed also. That was certainly not part of the Opera. Danielle opened her eyes and craned her neck to see the stage better. Suddenly there was a hand on her arm, pulling her to the back of their box. It was Jehan.

"Don't look out there, Mademoiselle." His voice was still soft and gentle, but urgent. She nodded as Raul barreled past her and flung open the door, no doubt to see Christine.

"What is it? What's out there?" She asked fearfully.

"It's nothing to worry about. The Opera will continue." He reassured her, allowing her to clutch his hands tightly with her own. "There was an accident; all will be well." But he didn't sound certain. He suggested she read 'Sense and Sensibility' aloud while they waited for the Opera to continue, so they sat together and waited for Christine's grand entrance.

It was quite a bit later when Christine emerged from Stage right and began singing. Something overhead shook, like the tinkling of glass. Danielle looked up in time to see the giant chandelier go crashing to the floor.

* * *

**A/N: Hope it was okay! Not too boring?I know this had a lot of Phantom of the Opera in it, but we will get to Les Mis. I needed to establish Raul/Christine a little bit. And I will be taking the Enjolras thing slowly, not as slow as it has been, but I don't want a love at first sight thing. :)  
**

**BlackCat718! Oh my goodness! I was so excited to get your review! You seriously made my day. I really hope you liked this chapter!**


	3. Chapter 3

As it had turned out, Jehan Prouvaire was a friend of Raul's, and therefore was entrusted with taking Danielle home after the chandelier accident. There had been a general panic, but Jehan had been completely in his senses and asked to escort Danielle to safety. Raul immediately obliged, he had to see Christine, after all. Danielle thought it was the best Opera she'd been to; it was very exciting. All though, in all the haste, she'd left her book at the Opera house, which was very tragic and resulted in great mourning.

She was presently strolling through the Jardin du Luxembourg with a woman she had met at a party three nights ago, and her husband, the Marquis St. Vaine. They were undoubtedly fashionable people, but had a little too much interest in everyone around them. But apparently that was the purpose of the gardens, to see and be seen. It was a sunny, breezy day, just perfect for a stroll through the piazza, but more than anything, Danielle wished she could ride through these gardens. Horses were the best company; they didn't judge or gossip and they always forgave, no matter the offense.

"Did you see the trim on Maria Cujas' gown, my love?" The Marquess tugged her husbands' sleeve and nodded in the direction of the girl in question.

"I did not see her trim, my darling. Was it spectacular?" He asked with great interest, craning his neck to see Mademoiselle Cujas.

"It was, my love, it was! Imagine it, she was wearing lace trimming that had been dyed orange!" Her husband gasped and they both laughed gleefully. It seemed to be quite a joke between them. Danielle wished for nothing more than an intelligent conversation.

"Do you know lace has to be handmade? It takes great skill and a terribly long time; that's why it's so expensive." She informed them.

"Is it really? It's a good thing money's so abundant, eh?" The Marquis grinned to his wife as she succumbed to another round of titters. Danielle wouldn't introduce another cerebral topic. There were starving masses, for goodness sake, and these people were doing absolutely nothing to help them. They walked like that for some time; The Marquis and Marquess gossiping and observing while Danielle trailed behind, wishing for the afternoon to be over.

"Did you hear what happened at the Opera?" The Marquess pulled aside a young lady she knew and started chattering about it all. That had been their first topic of conversation; they hadn't even entered the gardens before the Marquess was speculating and reporting on all the events of that night. Danielle had been more than happy to pretend she knew nothing of the incident; if she admitted she had been there she would be drilled for information or invited to another Opera, and she wished to avoid both options.

Her only course was to gaze at the Luxembourg gardens around her while the vacuous conversation went on around her. It was gorgeous this time of year, she had learned the instant she saw it. Flowers were blooming and trees were blossoming, everything was so bright and green and colorful. There were fountains and benches spread over the entire expanse and the gravel and dirt pathway crunched beneath their feet. The air was fresh and pure, untainted by the squalor seen in the city. She was glad for places like this. It made one almost forget the cares and tribulations of the world; it made one feel what life could be like and desire to work towards it. She felt wonderful and happy, if only the beauty didn't have to be tainted by vapid words she would experience perfection.

Danielle scanned the surrounding area, the Marquis and Marquess were busy chatting with their friend and she wanted someone to speak intelligently with. There were two young aristocratic women walking and obviously attempting to gain the attention of a group of gentlemen loafing by a large fountain. She certainly had no desire to meet any of them. Her eye was caught be a grave and well-dressed duo coming down the narrow lane. It was a middle-aged man and a girl who looked to be about Danielles' age. They seemed like kind and sensible people, and she was exceedingly bored, so before she could comprehend it she was walking toward them. As she approached, the gentleman eyed her warily, but the girl looked welcoming and open, so she continued on.

"Bonjour," She greeted, "I am Danielle de Chagny, and was wondering if you would like to walk with me?" She invited them both. The girl looked to her father, who nodded almost imperceptibly.

"Bonjour," She said meekly, "I'm Cosette, and this is my papa, Monsieur Fauchelevent. We would be delighted to walk with you." She smiled prettily, and the two girls paired up, while the monsieur hung back a bit, while they started walking.

"Have you lived here long, Cosette? I just recently came from London, and I'd never been in Paris before. It's a very exciting city!" Danielle exclaimed.

"Oh, it is. We've lived here since I was eight." She responded quietly.

"I'm sorry if I have inconvenienced you. The people I was walking with have no sense and I was growing tired of their drivel, and you and your papa seemed such kind people, I was eager to make your acquaintance. If you'd prefer I leave, I will." Danielle offered nervously. She didn't want to go.

"No! I don't want you to go." Cosette reassured, "I just don't know how one acts with friends." She admitted pitifully.

"Cosette, consider me your new friend. And please, don't worry about how you act. Be your God-given self and we'll get along famously." And they did. They talked of their mutual interests; from horses to reading, from their preference of riding to their disgust in 'Romeo and Juliet'. Soon they laughed and chatted as old friends and arranged to go riding in the more open area of the gardens on Wednesday. All the while, Monsieur Fauchelevent looked on with a ghost of a smile. His daughter had made a friend; a sensible, compassionate, clever friend. He could not ask for more.

* * *

Eponine was an interesting girl. It was obvious that she was completely in love with this 'Marius Pontmercy' fellow. She spoke of him often and it was all Danielle could do to change the conversation to something else. The two girls, along with Sabine, were sitting together on the ground together and having a wonderful time. It had been necessary for Danielle to tell Eponine the truth; that she was a bourgeois dressing as a pauper, because Eponine had seen her as a aristocrat and would have to see Danielle dressed as a beggar. The girl made a solemn promise to never reveal Danielle's most heavily guarded secret. It had also done something to their friendship; Eponine was more trusting and clung to Danielle whenever she didn't have Marius to see. Danielle had come to spend the entire day with her two friends; Alain had been instructed to just escort her and come back around seven o'clock. She felt safe with the two street-savvy girls.

Now the girls were taking turns in the reading of 'Much Ado About Nothing', because Sabine didn't know how to read and Danielle thought you had not lived until you read that particular Shakespeare play, so not only did they read it aloud, but also in distinctive voices for each character.

"Prince: I will see thee, ere I die, look pale with love." Danielle read dramatically, "Benedick: With anger, with sickness, or with hunger, my lord, not with love. Prince-"

"Well, if ever thou dost fall from this faith, thou wilt prove a notable argument." A quiet, shy voice interrupted her and she turned to see Jehan, smiling sheepishly, and surrounded by three other students. Danielle smiled and pointed to her book.

"We are improving our minds through extensive reading." She tried to convey that she wished not to talk of her present poor state of dress at that moment, and kept talking, "What brings you here?"

"Ah, I'm meeting with some friends at the Cafe." He seemed to understand her avoidance of that particular topic. It also helped that, by nature, he wouldn't want to bring up any delicate or awkward subject. "Would you like to come in with us?" He invited, as one of his friends stepped forward.

"Prouvaire, perhaps you should introduce us all first. Like they do in polite society." The young man reminded teasingly. He appeared to be about twenty five, with a bald head and wide smile.

"Oh, yes, that is Bossuet, he's heading in the legal profession-"

"Heading there, but I like as not won't arrive!" He laughed heartily.

"He laughs at everything, Mademoiselle, but is also dreadfully unlucky." Another man supplied. This one was, like Bossuet, dressed poorer than Jehan, and carried a stack of medical books. "I'm Joly." He held out a hand for her to shake while balancing his books in the other. "It's alright if you don't take my hand. I believe I have the plague." He informed her gravely. Danielle looked in shock to her two friends, still sitting down. Eponine looked highly amused while Sabine seemed frightened out of her wits. Danielle smiled at her reassuringly and turned back around.

"He doesn't actually have the plague." Jehan told her.

"Yes I do! My skin is getting a grey pallor and I feel-"

"He's a chronic invalid is what he is!" The fourth, and final student yelled, then turned to look at her, "I'm Bahorel, pleased to meet you." He tipped his hat to her and then turned to watch Joly and Jehan argue over the formers symptoms. Bossuet looked at her and grinned.

"Would you like to meet the rest of us, Mademoiselle?" He offered teasingly.

"Oh, naturally! Especially if they're all reserved and polite, also." Danielle laughed.

"Now you can tell me your name, and we'd be what they call 'acquaintances', although that's a dreadful term, if you ask me. People ought to be friends or they ought not; it isn't a science." He informed her as he tucked her hand in the crook of his arm and walked regally to the Cafe.

"I'm Danielle, and those are my friends, Sabine and Eponine." She responded politely. Eponine followed them, but Sabine hurried off as Danielle waved to her. The bickering continued behind them.

"It is a pleasure to meet such fine friends of my lady, here. They were at the door, and Bossuet held it open for the two girls. "Now, the rest of the inmates are upstairs, if you please."

"The inmates of where, may I ask?" Danielle asked with the same posh tone he was using.

"Why, the inmates of the madhouse, of course! Now, I must tell you something dreadfully important before you meet the others." He leaned closer, "My name is not really Bossuet!" He laughed, "It's actually Laigle de Meaux, but you may feel free to call me by anything. I respond to it all!" He laughed heartily, again, and led them upstairs.

Another young man passed them, coming down the stairs and reading a thick book. "That's Feuilly, He's educated himself completely! He's orphaned, but has adopted mankind as his parents, and our glorious country as his mother! You will not meet a man with a warmer heart." He spoke with affection. It became clear to Danielle that these boys had a bond, a communion that could never be broken.

They arrived upstairs to find three gentlemen sitting at a table, two of which stood when they saw the ladies. The first had been deciphering hieroglyphics, by the look of it, and looked at the ladies with a gentle, earnest expression.

"This is Combeferre, ladies and gentlemen. He provides us with the philosophical and learned way of thinking, and is imaginative to the point of fantasy." He summed up the mans character, while Combeferre simply smiled and went back to his hieroglyphs. The second man had actually moved to bow to each individual girl and smiled warmly.

"I will tell you my name before Bossuet here does and gives you a full account of my attributes. I am Courfeyrac and my virtues you'll have to find yourself. It makes things more interesting, I think." He smiled kindly as Eponine looked around.

"Where's Marius?" She asked the general vicinity.

"He'll be walking in the Luxembourg garden again. Contemplating his solitude." The third man sighed and turned to face them and Danielle was accosted with that same impertinent student she had tried to avoid. He seemed to recognize her, also, as they stared at each other all the while Bossuet introduced him.

"And this is our fearless leader, Enjolras! As for him, it must be said that he scarcely notices a rose, is unconscious of Springtime and pays no heed to the singing of birds." That summary did not surprise Danielle in the least. "And now, we must introduce the ladies; we know Eponine, Marius' little friend and secretly very poetical, I think. But this rare and beautiful flower is Danielle, who acts like Springtime and is as graceful as a swan." He chuckled at his word play. Danielle blushed under his overestimation of her merits, but didn't look away from Enjolras. She was determined not to break first, and was curious as to his expression. He looked at her as though she were a particularly difficult puzzle that had pieces missing.

"Welcome to the ABC society, ladies." Courfeyrac said, offering them each a chair at the table he and Combeferre were inhabiting. The girls thanked him and sat.

"Monsieur Combeferre, are you deciphering hieroglyphs?" Danielle asked quietly. He looked up and set his pen aside.

"Yes, I am. Do you know about them?" He seemed surprised.

"Oh, not really. I read about them in a book once. I thought it was extraordinary how similar they are to modern writing, with punctuation and whatnot. It also seemed much easier to learn than modern languages!" She shared happily.

"It is! I've been trying to tell that to these fellows!" He exclaimed, seemingly glad to have found someone to understand. Courfeyrac laughed.

"You always make it sound so boring, we can't help but believe that it is incredibly dull." He defended lightheartedly.

At that moment, a handsome, breathless young man came up the stairs and sat at an empty table; Eponine hurried to join him and they conversed as old friends. Danielle leaned forward to Laigle.

"Who is that?" She nodded in the boys direction.

"That is Marius Pontmercy." Courfeyrac answered before Laigle could.

"He's from a wealthy family, but has been living in destitution for the cause." Laigle still managed to get his opinion in.

"What cause?" She inquired curiously. He had made it sound terribly important.

"Equality for all!" Laigle shouted, banging his fist on the table. Danielle was shocked. All these people believed in fairness? She was not the only one?

"How do you mean?" She asked, breathless from the realization that her passion was shared by so many others. But her joy and happiness soon ebbed as Enjolras stood and walked gracefully to the head of their little table and looked her straight in the eye.

"We will fight for justice until the eyes of the government are upon us and we can be heard." He stated with passion.

"You will fight?" She asked skeptically. He seemed to catch on to her disapproval.

"It is better than giving people little baskets full of trinkets." He defended. She stood and knocked her chair over in her haste.

"Those baskets can be what keeps them from starvation and disease! At least I'm doing something instead of sitting around, planning it!" She said with vehemence.

"We are planning something great! A revolution that has not been seen in all of history! Do you think your baskets actually help in the scheme of things?"

"Yes I do! It gives them one more day to live, if necessary! Did you forget that we had a Revolution not even fifty years ago?" She reminded him less than civilly.

"This one will succeed. We will change your life, why do you fight?" He inquired gently.

"Because you have the power and knowledge to make a difference and you wish to throw it all away on some foolhardy notion that you can overpower the monarchy! Progress needn't be won on a battlefield." She answered with conviction.

"You don't speak as a peasant." He growled, obviously frustrated with her. The force was such to her that he might as well have yelled.

"You speak exactly as I would've imagined a bored child plotting to steal a pie." She responded. She knew it sounded absurd, but it was all she could think of. He actually had the nerve to appear amused, which angered her further. She turned to the rest of the room, all of which were staring at the both of them with mixed expressions, and curtseyed. "If you'll excuse me, I remembered I have very important things to attend to. The least of which is convincing a bull-headed child that it's better to earn a thing than steal it."

She swept from the room, fuming, and ran down the stairs. Leaving the Cafe, she realized she had absolutely nowhere to go. Alain wouldn't be there for two more hours. She saw movement in the shadows of a building to her left and backed away. But she was too late, a sinister looking man emerged as another came behind and grabbed her, covering her mouth with his hand. She tried in vain to scream, but it was no use. The first man walked closer, twirling a knife in his fingers.

" 'Ello, Mam'selle Danielle De Chagny." He smiled showing yellow teeth. Her eyes widened; they knew who she was. "We 'ear your mamsy-pamsy brother 'ill pay a good 'mount of money for your safe 'eturn." She bit down hard on the second mans hand, but he didn't even flinch. She struggled and writhed to get out of his grip, but he didn't even move. It was like being held in a vice. Then she got mad. First it was that insufferable Enjolras, and now these two men who obviously didn't suffer from an overabundance of schooling. She was better than this. She had to be. She got as angry as she could, it would give her adrenaline, and elbowed the man holding her as hard as she could. Thankfully, his grip loosened and she turned and kicked him in the shin with her hard-toed boots.

Then she ran as fast as she possibly could to the Cafe. Unfortunately, Jehan and the others had gone inside as she was coming out; there was no one to help her. So, she screamed as loud as she could and looked back. They were gaining on her. She was terrified, but she couldn't think of that right now, she could only think of how angry she was and that would give her power. But then, she felt something catch her foot and she fell to the ground. They would get her now, they were so close before, she got up anyway and ran again, but when she looked back, there was a third figure. It wasn't helping them, it was fighting them. Danielle stopped and realized it had nothing to fight them with but it's bare hands. She happened to know where Sabine kept their spare revolver and went to get it from their house, yelling some excuse as she left. When she was back on the street, the figure was still fighting off the two men. She walked closer, until she was sure she could make the shot, and aimed the already loaded gun.

With a bang, the man that had held her crumpled to the ground as the other two men looked to the source. One ran to her, but the other stopped it with a punch square to the jaw. She aimed again, but her rescuer hit the other man in the temple with a pocket watch he had grabbed when the other man staggered from the punch, and then it was over. Both men lay on the ground, unconscious or dead, Danielle didn't care right now.

Every person in the Cafe came pouring out, curious as to the source of the commotion, but Danielle only saw her defender. Everything was growing hazy. Her anger seeped away and left her with the after effects. Then her savior came close, so close, and she could see who it was. _Oh, God, why did it have to be him_, was her last conscious thought.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you to everybody who followed my story! I'm going to say that means you like it so far? That, or you want to see where the train wreck is heading and to that I say: you and me both, pal. **

**So, I tried to make it exciting! Was it good? Also, I realllllyyy hope they're all in character enough. It's a lot harder than I thought! Especially Enjolras, actually. I think I just want him to be perfect. Because he is! :D**


	4. Chapter 4: So I Pray

A young man ducked under a low door frame and entered the dark, dusky atmosphere of an inn that his employer was known to frequent. Walking to the darkest corner and making out the form of Monsieur Thenardier with his back against the wall.

" 'Parnasse, did you get the girl?" He slurred, obviously drunk. Montparnasse, for this was the aforesaid young man, shook his head and sat on the edge of a seat across the table from the other man.

"She got away." He answered smoothly.

"Wha' do you mean, 'she got away'?" Thenardier growled, leaning forward with his elbows on the table. Montparnasse thought fast.

"Brujon had a hold of her, but she wriggled away and before I could do anything there were three men on top of me, I barely got away and Brujon got shot. Served 'im right, letting her go." He told his boss with conviction.

"She'll be watched now, I wager. It'll be a feat to get 'er when she's got eyes on 'er." Thenardier mused to himself. Montparnasse sat back and waited for the new plan to formulate in the masters' head.

"I got it, 'ere's what we'll do," The older man leaned forward and gestured for Montparnasse to do the same.

As he left the building and crossed the street, he saw Eponine Thenardier striding towards the inn, fire in her eyes. She was probably upset about the near kidnapping of her little friend. Well, she should be prepared to be outraged after they implemented their new plan. And it was indeed a brilliant plan, one Montparnasse was proud to be a part of. They'd all be rich within the month.

* * *

A short time later Danielle woke to the sound of rain on a roof and Rauls' voice.

"Danielle! Oh, thank God!" She heard footsteps cross the room and suddenly he was there, embracing her, "That boy that brought you here told me everything." But then he let her go and looked at her angrily, "You were engaging in improper acts." He accused; apparently this took precedence over being happy she was safe. She sighed and nodded. There was still so much for her to work out in her mind and she really didn't want to have this conversation.

"I'm sorry, Raul, really. But I can't just do nothing." She whispered, sitting up. Looking around, she realized she was in their house, quite far from the Cafe Musain. _How on Earth did I get here, _she wondered skeptically_. _

"Exactly." Raul sighed and rubbed his temples with his fingertips, "I wrote to the Lady Baybridge for advice a fortnight ago. She said you ought to get married and I quite agree. Danielle," He looked at her sincerely, "I do it all for you." She was confused. Whatever did he do for her? "But," He continued on a brighter note, "Christine and I are engaged! I understand I've been at the Opera quite a bit lately, but there were matters to be attended to. It'll all be resolved soon." He was being enigmatic, and seemed more enthusiastic over these 'matters' than his own engagement.

Light footsteps echoed down the hall and Cosette ran through the door, straight to Danielle and hugged her with all the force she could muster.

"Oh, I was so worried for you! When I heard all that happened I came straight here; I hope you don't mind." Then she pulled away and held her friend at arms length, giving her a long-suffering look, "Danielle, your my only friend, whatever did you do that for? I could have had to find a new one, and do you know how difficult that is these days?" And both girls erupted into giggles.

"I'm so glad you're here, Cosette," Danielle glanced around the room to see her brother had gone and lowered her voice, "Raul told me I should marry and I haven't the heart to tell him I never shall." She sighed deeply as though it were a great problem.

"We neither of us shall. We will just have to join a convent together." Cosette replied, smiling.

"My dear friend, there is so much you must learn. A convent would never accept us together. We would cause mayhem and havoc." She joked, "Actually, would you like to go to Church with me today?" She preferred going to pray alone, but had learned that Cosette also did, so they both simply acted as though the other wasn't there. It was a wonderful system.

"Of course!" Cosette agreed heartily, "You're safe now, but someone should accompany you. We don't want anything like that to happen again." She spoke motherly, as Danielle giggled at her.

"Very well. Do I have your permission to change into something less dirty, My lady?" She stood and went out the door.

"If you must!" Cosette's voice called magnanimously. Danielle went to her upstairs room and sat on the bed. It was Enjolras. He had come for her; he had _saved_ her for no apparent reason. The more she thought about it - and she thought about it quite a bit - the more she was certain he had already been in the street when she screamed, not upstairs in the Cafe like he should have been. The timing wasn't right. But why would he be outside? It made no sense, and Danielle didn't like it when things made no sense. She stood and changed quickly into a lavender colored day dress, then went back downstairs to meet Cosette.

Although it was raining, both girls agreed that rain was terribly pleasant and romantic, and walked with umbrellas. The umbrellas' were quickly given to the first wet beggar Danielle saw, and so did not provide them with the protection they had originally planned. Thankfully, the Church was not far ahead. Once they arrived, they separated; Cosette to the main chapel and Danielle to a separate room with an altar, which she kneeled before and clasped her hands.

"God," She whispered in the silence, "Thank you. Thank you for my deliverance and for keeping me safe. Even if it was Monsieur Enjolras to do it. So many people will know who I am now, or at least will be guessing. It frightens me; I don't know what to do. Give me strength for what is to come. Thank you." She stayed there while, enjoying the quiet and solitude for awhile longer. She never felt more at peace than when she was in this place, the Saint-Medard. It wasn't as large or ornate as Notre Dame; in fact it was rather small and homely. But the stained glass depictions and stone statues were beautiful to Danielle. She stood and walked out, before rushing back in and kneeling once more, "And thank you, so much, for my friend Cosette. Amen." Then she went back out and waited for the other girl near the courtyard, under cover. The rain was coming down in torrents, knocking petals off flowers and creating puddles in pathways. Cosette came out of the chapel and ran to her.

"The weather is terrible, Danielle!" She cried. But Danielle was thinking of something else. Something that had just occurred to her. She looked to Cosette with a shocked expression.

"I have to thank him." She said sorrowfully.

"Who do you have to thank?" Cosette looked at her askance.

"The boy who kept me from being kidnapped." She replied.

"Well, you kept him from being killed, so I think your debt has been repaid." Cosette joked, but then noticed a stricken expression on Danielles' face. "What is it?"

"I shot somebody! Oh, Cosette, I might've killed a man! And I didn't even think of it until now. Oh dear." She wrung her hands, "Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear."

"Let's get you home; I'm sure everything's fine. Don't worry." She consoled and led Danielle from the Church. They would be completely drenched when they returned home, but neither of them payed much attention to that. They also didn't pay much attention when a fiacre stopped beside them and a man jumped out to usher them inside, holding his umbrella out to them until they were in.

"You girls shouldn't be out in the rain." Monsieur Fauchelevent chided gently.

"Yes, papa. I'm sorry." Cosette apologized sincerely.

"You needn't worry yourself, my dear. Let's just get you both home and warmed by the fire." He said kindly. Danielle nodded, but felt she couldn't do much else. Monsieur Fauchelevent seemed to notice her silence, but spoke naught of it. He knew that people not always needed to speak, sometimes things must be thought of to oneself. Cosette told her father about Danielles' entire ordeal and Monsieur Fauchelevent didn't even seem surprised.

"It's dangerous out there." He told Danielle, "Do you really do the things my daughter says? Dress like them, feed them, befriend them?" He asked intently. She nodded once more. Curiously, he looked shocked at this affirmation and looked to her with a new fondness. And yet, he hadn't even batted an eyelash when Cosette informed him of Danielles' shooting the man. The rest of their journey was silent; each in their own turbulent thoughts.

* * *

Once Danielle had returned home and thanked Cosette and her father, and gave Alain and Annette the night off of working, the days events seemed to envelope her. She sank into a kitchen chair near the stove and stared into a vast nothingness. It was supposed to be such a lovely day and instead, she had been insulted, nearly abducted, shot somebody, and, most frightening, been told she should marry. It was nearly too much for a genteel girl such as herself to bear. Then there was the matter of being exposed. Jehan, Raul, and Eponine all knew who she was; both of who she was. Eponine was the only one who knew what she was before the she had been attacked. Someone had to have told those thugs about her. She couldn't believe Eponine would do that to her, she was trustworthy. She had to be. But what other explanation was there?

And she was afraid. Afraid of the unknown, of what would happen. The ABC society was plotting some sort of rebellion, Raul was sure to make it known that she had engaged in unsavory acts - in the eyes of the aristocracy, at least - and the police could come at any time, demanding she answer for shooting and possibly killing someone. It was most certainly a punishable offense. She fully expected to be punished, not only by the law, but but by the aristocracy. She had committed a cardinal sin in their books, associating with the peasants. Perhaps she wouldn't be welcome or invited to any high class social events for as long as any of them could remember and, try as she might not to, she did care. She liked the beautiful clothes and courtly manners of the bourgeois. She had been in the world of fashion all her life; it was a part of her and she didn't want to let it go.

Realizing that it was quite late, Danielle stood and made her way upstairs and into her warm bed. It had been a long day and she needed the peace and rest that only sleep could bring.

* * *

**A/N: So, if you've noticed I haven't explained anybody's appearance it's because I don't want to. I mean, you probably already have someone in your head for Eponine, Enjolras, Cosette, etc, etc. It would just ruin it if I said it was Ramin or Aaron supposed to be Enjolras when you thought the opposite! **

**I know this chapter was kinda boring, but her emotions and reactions to what had happened needed to be shown before I moved on. So, whaddya think? **

**lorely Crow and Steph: Thank you so super much for your reviews! Because, honestly, it really motivates me to keep writing. :) I'm glad you like it and I hope that you keep reading! **


	5. Chapter 5

**I am so sorry it has taken me this long to update! I've been incredibly busy with graduation, work and a bit of a whirlwind romance myself. :) Plus, I thought that our computer had gone dead, but it turns out that it still kind of works. Thank you to everybody who favorited and followed this! I've been writing in my notebook, so I'm pretty set. Here it is! **

Chapter 5

It was late in the afternoon of the next day when Danielle realized she'd been expelled from Parisian society. There had been no calls, no invitations to tea or parties; not even a note to inquire as to her health. It was highly unusual, and her only explanation was that word had traveled of her nefarious deeds and no one of standing wished to be seen with her. She was alone. She was even afraid to leave the house; she could imagine the looks she would receive and the horrific sound of whispers behind her back. Even Raul had left her to go make plans for an Masquerade at the Opera house, which she had not been invited to attend. Her rich friends undoubtedly despised her and her poor friends felt betrayed by her.

She could no longer be the peasant girl; free of constrictions and rules and allowed to just be her God-given self. That girl she could never be again.

There came a knock on the door and Danielle sprang from her melancholy on the couch. Voices floated down the hall; Annette's and another deeper voice belonging to a man. They sounded sharp, as though disagreeing, until the bald head and large smile so characteristic of Bossuet peeked around the door.

"Good afternoon, gentle mademoiselle!" He greeted happily, "I've brought you flowers and your book, 'Sense and Sensibility'. Apparently, you were very absent-minded and left it at the Opera." He strolled in and held the tome out for her, "I suppose I should say, 'I meant to bring you flowers', because the flowers I did have for you fell from my hand, and by the time I had noticed it, they'd been trampled by a horse." Danielle laughed at him, and ignored that previous despondent attitude she's adopted that day.

"Well, in that case a book without flowers will do just fine." She replied as she delicately took the book from his grasp. "Thank you for bringing it back. And for...well...coming here." He looked at her questioningly.

"Why ever would you thank me for coming to visit you? It's an honor!" He outstretched his arm as an offering to sit and took his own seat as soon as she had.

"I believe I've been cut off from aristocratic society." She informed him glumly, while fingering a bracelet she wore.

"Is that a tragic event?" He asked, obviously believing the negative.

"Well, no. Not exactly." She looked around the room: at the rug, at the clock; anywhere but his amused face. She was intensely ashamed of how much she adored being amongst the wealthy. "I had good friends and now I'll never speak to them again." She cried dramatically and peeked to watch his reaction of her comedically done theatrics. But instead of the wide, toothy smile and smart remark she expected, she was met with an open, earnest expression as he put his elbows on his knees and leaned forward.

"People who will leave you for something you've done are not your friends, Danielle. You didn't do anything wrong. You have to see that. Real friends are always there for you, through every storm and every victory. Real friends never leave, no matter the circumstances." He told her with conviction.

"I understand, thank you. I hope I have friends like that one day, but I wasn't serious. I had few friends among the aristocracy and those I did have were completely ridiculous! I will miss the entertainment they afforded me, though. But I think I'll miss the glamor of it all the most. And everybody tripping over their feet to make my acquaintance." She joked in her flippant way. Bossuet, like the gentleman he didn't realize he was, laughed heartily until he seemed to remember something.

"I brought Joly with me! He must be around here somewhere. Ah!" He snapped his fingers, "He was telling your housekeeper - Annette, was it? that he has the gout." He seemed pleased with himself and looked to Danielle, "How do you feel about going back to the cafe?" He asked kindly. She shrugged her shoulders noncommittally, which, may it be said, was extremely unladylike.

"It frightens me." She confessed quietly, "They knew who I was and where I'd be. Someone had to have told them, and that terrifies me beyond reason. I shot a man, Bossuet! I didn't even think of it, I just did it. I pulled the trigger and...and," She looked down miserably, "I might've killed him."

"But he might also have survived!"Isn't that a nice thought?" He coaxed, trying to cheer her. She smiled through the tears she knew must come eventually.

"It's a much nicer thought than the alternative." She attempted to sound her usual light-hearted self as Joly strode in and flopped down unceremoniously on a desk chair across the room from the door.

"Your housekeeper didn't believe I had gout! I gave her all my symptoms and ailments and she declared it to be psychosomatic! Are you well, Mademoiselle De Chagny? You appear a bit peaked." He peered at her excitedly.

"No monsieur, I thank you. I am well." She shook her head, "Oh, forgive me! I made _Bresilienones_ today, considering there was little else to do. Would you like any? Annette showed me how to make them; she's a very clever person." She cast a look to Joly, who remained oblivious and instead looked at her, amused.

"A Lady like you making petits fours for people such as us?" He grinned at her.

"Indeed, I was planning on eating them all myself, but since you're here I suppose I have to share." She sighed teasingly, "How did you know I lived here?" She inquired, realizing she had never told anyone her address.

"Enj - Uh, Prouvaire told us. We wanted to check in on you. There was very nearly a fight over who got to come. Bahorel took bets on the outcome. But in the end, it was Joly and I who won the honor of seeing you again."Bossuet grinned.

And that was it for Danielle. The tears that refused to be stemmed fell from her eyes as her nose turned red. She buried her face in her hands and shifted away from the two men. She figured Bossuet was joking when he said that they all wished to see her, but she felt so warmed from the thought anyway. How wonderful to have so many people care for her so much. It overwhelmed her that Joly and Bossuet would even be in her drawing room after knowing her for only one day. One day in which she fought with their good friend and leader, was accosted by two men for reasons she couldn't possibly know and then shot a person in the back with a pistol that might as well have been in her pocket. And still these two students treated her as a friend. She had never known people like this. Raul, once her only friend in the world, was nowhere to be found; probably at a party she wasn't invited to. The rain fell in synchronization with her tears as the two students watched in confusion. They neither of them had sisters or wives and knew not how to respond when a female cried. They looked to each other for inspiration and Bossuet moved to her side and patted her shoulder clumsily.

"There, there. It'll all be right." He consoled, "Do you cry all - ?" Joly cleared his throat loudly and moved to crouch in front of her and took one of her tear soaked hands in his.

"What is the matter, Mademoiselle?" He asked softly, secretly hoping that she had some physical malady. He could fix those.

"Be-before I came here I didn't...I didn't have friends," She admitted thickly, "I only met you yesterday and - and you've already been so, so good to me."

Bossuet, unable to stand too much melancholy - especially over something so silly as people being nice - stopped rubbing Danielles shoulder and took her unoccupied hand.

"Mademoiselle, I understand you wish to not go to the Cafe, but tomorrow there is a masquerade at the Opera Populaire. Would you do me the honor of accompanying me?" He spoke very formally, but with sparkling eyes. She turned to him and laughed pitifully, putting the students more at ease.

"I would be delighted to accept your invitation, Monsieur." Her eyes, too, held a mischievous glint through the tear clumped lashes and red rimmed lids. "But you are wrong. I do wish to go to the Cafe. I need to thank Monsieur Enjolras for...for everything." She looked sternly at both students, "I would like to do so alone."

"If you wish to be completely alone, you may have to wait awhile." Bossuet informed her, "There'll be people coming and going until our meeting tonight. After that, Enjolras usually stays late." He spoke seriously for perhaps the first time since Danielle had met him. She nodded thankfully and stood.

"How would you like those cookies now?"

* * *

Danielle waited until the house was asleep before she decided to go to the Cafe Musain. Summoning Alain, she tugged on her boots and ran down their wooden stairs. The man was waiting for her near the door.

"Alain, I must go to the Cafe Musain. It's urgent." She told him as she passed to the front steps. She grabbed her umbrella and walked into the night. It might seem like a foolish thing to do, especially considering the fact that she was nearly abducted only the day before, but she needed answers. And when she needed answers, nothing was too foolish for her.

They arrived at the Cafe a short time later and Danielle instructed Alain to wait for her downstairs. It was late; there was no raucous laughter, no jesting yells to be heard upstairs, but that comforted her. That meant less people to ask questions. She climbed the stairs purposefully and only thought about how idiotic she was being when she arrived on the landing, in sight of the second story. The lights were low and cast long shadows on the walls and floors. There were only two people, three, if you counted her . A man unconscious from drinking at a table, and Enjolras; furiously writing by candlelight to her far left. She approached as quietly as she could, but a floorboard creaked and he looked up at her, surprised.

"Hello, Monsieur." She greeted quietly.

"Hello, Mademoiselle De Chagny." He responded curtly. She sighed heavily and walked closer to him.

"You must be angry. I understand. I lied to everybody. " She said miserably, clasping her hands and ducking her head, standing like a repentant child. He looked to her sharply.

"I am not angry, Mademoiselle. I knew what you were the moment I saw you." He replied dismissively.

"Why did you not expose me? It is surely an arrestable offense." She inquired.

"I knew you would expose yourself soon enough. You were never careful, and a terrible liar. But you seemed to do the people around here some good. Why would I wish to end that?" He responded as though it were incredibly obvious. She nodded and sat down. Normally she would've been annoyed with his condescension towards her, but she was too tired. He looked back to his writing.

"Thank you Enjolras." His head snapped back up when she said his name, "For what you did."

"Any of us would have done the same. You may not realize it, but everybody here has quickly become fond of you." He dismissed her thanks with a wave of his pen.

"It didn't take long, did it?" She laughed softly.

"Sometimes it doesn't take long at all. If you don't use your brain." He looked back to his papers. Her eyebrows raised and eyes narrowed.

"What do you mean, Monsieur? That none of your friends have brains because they're stupid enough to like me after one day? Well, there is something I can say to that: at least I am capable of being liked. At least there are people who care about me. Can the same be said for you?" She spat angrily.

"You misunderstand." He mumbled, still absorbed in his writing. She groaned loudly and dramatically. She had been looking for a fight and he had denied her the satisfaction. They sat in quiet for a few minutes, she collecting herself and he scratching at his paper.

"Did I kill that man today? The one I shot." She asked with trepidation. She had been told that he had lived by people who weren't there and didn't know what happened. She needed to hear it from Enjolras. She looked down at the floor, away from his accusing eyes. But then, he laughed. She looked back up at him; he was looking at her, icy blue eyes shining, crinkling at the edges and lips forming a smile that seemed altogether foreign to his face. He was laughing at her. She gaped at him, but waited for an answer to her question.

"I've never seen someone transition so easily from angry and defensive to vulnerable and scared." He laughed again, "Your face is quite expressive." She had a feeling that this was the nicest thing he was capable of saying. "You didn't kill him." Thank God for Enjolras putting her out of her misery. She was beginning to think that he was avoiding telling her because she was a killer.

"Really? He's all right?" She could cry from relief.

"Mademoiselle," He leaned forward, "He's been shot."

"Oh, yes! People generally aren't alright after being shot!" She looked at him seriously, "You would be surprised how worried I was." She laughed out of sheer relief.

"I really don't think it would surprise me." He replied sardonically.

"Naturally, you know everything, so therefore nothing could surprise you." She said lightheartedly. The rain was pouring down the windows and beating the roof overhead. "I think that we should be proud of ourselves. We haven't raised our voices at each other yet."

"We should organize a parade and host a ball in honor of this momentous occasion." He responded in that charming, yet condescending tone that he seemed to employ only on her. "It's getting very late. You should go home." That was as close to polite as he'd be to her. Nodding, she stood and brushed off her damp skirt primly.

"Farewell, Monsieur." He was gazing at his fascinating papers again, but surely he could hear her, "I won't ask you how or why you did it, but thank you." She walked to the stairs and paused, "Even though you did act like an insufferable sycophant." She didn't wait for a reply before rushing down the stairs and hurrying from the Cafe. If she had looked back at the window as she pulled her hood over her hair and walked quickly down the street, she would have seen the outline of a man with gold hair watching after her, the warmth and light from the Cafe at his back.


	6. Chapter 6

**Ok, so this is where I kinda go off the deep end. So I'm sorry if you think it's super weird, but I just think that Enjolras and Danielle would barely give each other the time of day unless I made them, so there. They're so difficult!**

Chapter 6

Danielle did not return to the Cafe as long as she possibly could after seeing Enjolras. The next afternoon was, in fact, spent in preparing for the masquerade. Fortunately she already had a dress made for such an occasion. It had been designed to flatter her perfectly, and she was ecstatic to be able to wear it to such an ostentatious ball. It was a deep, midnight blue with a black organza overlay, with glittered stars sprinkled sporadically until the very bottom, where they were so many the skirt sparkled like the night sky. Her silver gloves and mask were also glittered. Annette teased her hair into ringlets and pinned the hair around her face back, so that the effect was of a proper bun from the front, but a waterfall of golden curls tumbling past her shoulder blades in back. A blue silk fan was her only accessory; no jewelry, no combs of any kind. She wanted elegant simplicity. She wanted to look effortless. She wanted to look as though she cared not what every person in that ballroom thought of her.

Bossuet arrived promptly at six and escorted her to a hired _fiacre_. He wore the costume of a conquistador and seemed to look very Spanish. Touched at the idea that he had used his precious money to hire a second-rate _fiacre _just for her, Danielle smiled with extra exuberance as she took his hand and stepped up into their transport. He intended for her to arrive in the luxury to which she had become accustomed, while he would be the eloquent, stylish, perfect gentleman she so rightly deserved. Heaven knew she needed this night.

They arrived at the Opera in short time and were soon inside, mingling with other masked faces in attendance. The revolutionary student and the disdained sister of the Marquis De Chagny could roam and dance without limits or fear of recognition and rejection. Danielle could forget the events of the past two days and be an aristocrat once more and Bossuet could experience firsthand what it was he stood against. The pair separated and rejoined periodically, but it was while they were apart that Raul recognized and sought Danielle out. He wore a very fine officers uniform and no mask; his eyes locked on her and were unwavering even as he edged the throng of the dancing middle classes. After what seemed like eons of watching him, he stood before her, looking not angry, but relieved. He placed his hands jovially on her shoulders.

"Danielle!" He grinned, "I'm so happy you've made it! I do believe I forgot to invite you - forgive me - which was dreadfully negligent because there is someone of great importance in attendance." Winking at her conspiratorially, he took her hand and pulled her to the bottom of the grand, gold gilded staircase.

"Who is it, Raul?" She inquired mechanically. It didn't matter to her, for it was probably Christine; the only person to get him chipper for months.

"Why, didn't I tell you?" He glanced at her, genuinely surprised, " You're betrothed, dear sister. To a man of high social standing who needs to marry as much as you do. He ought to be here any time now." Muttering to himself, he checked his pocket watch and ignored completely Danielle's reaction to this news.

Her mouth opened and closed several times, resembling a fish. She couldn't seem to remember how to speak. She blinked rapidly and her nostrils flared her deep, quick breathing. Betrothed? To a man? Surely Raul must be joking. But he never was one for humor or any other triviality. Perhaps they were in financial trouble and a good match was needed to at least pull her out of impending poverty. Didn't Raul realize that Danielle much preferred poverty? It was all absurd.

"Raul, are we in financial trouble? Is that why you've arranged a marriage for me? Because I don't mind being poor, I welcome it in fact." He only looked at her as though she were dense and turned back to the room. "Well why don't you marry some aristocratic woman and leave me be! Raul, listen here," She stomped around him until they faced each other, "I am not marrying some posh old man for absolutely no reason. I have standards, and they don't include my brother selling me to the highest bidder and some fuddy-duddy haggling and bargaining for my hand!" She cried, not caring that people were staring. She only cared that Raul understood.

"Danielle, you will be married. Lady Baybridge is convinced it's the only way to make you be a proper member of society. Marry a rich man, care for him and his house, raise his children. That's the only way to tame a woman. " Raul didn't even turn to her as he spoke.

"I am no longer a child, Raul! I am capable of making my own decisions without your oppressive regulations! Even if I were to get married, I will not stop doing what I feel to be right. Nothing will stop me from helping those people; not Lady Baybridge, not you, and certainly not some pot bellied, pompous aristocrat!"

Bossuet approached them, a bemused expression on his face.

"Is something the matter?" He asked gravely. When it came to Danielles happiness, he was all seriousness.

"No, it's nothing, Bossuet. Raul simply doesn't agree with my life decisions." Danielle pouted childishly.

"Ah, is that all?" His face brightened, "I agree with Raul. Your life decisions are rather rotten."

"Do not tease me. My decisions are neither your, nor my brothers concern. In the eyes of the law I am fully capable to choose my own future! I needn't marry, if I so wish; and I do not wish to marry! Ever, if God wills it." Danielle declared forcefully to both of them.

"To never marry is a hard thing. Especially if you were unfortunate enough to be betrothed to a pot bellied, pompous aristocrat." A new, smooth voice asserted. Danielle looked to the source to see a masked, young looking gentleman standing before them. Although his words held humor and irony, his voice and demeanor were grim. Now, custom dictated that two people must be introduced by a third party before conversing properly. But Danielle was always quick to forget convention when her ire had been raised.

"Pardon reasonableme, Monsieur, but I don't believe my personal affairs are any of your concern. If they were, you'd have to be my afore mentioned betrothed and I would much prefer a pot bellied, pompous fop to you. I pity the woman so unfortunate as to love you." Her words may seem too biting and malicious, especially as they were directed to a complete stranger, but in her mind she had every right to yell at the world and everyone in it. Before the gentleman could respond, Raul stepped between them as a sort of barrier and spoke.

"Danielle, this is your betrothed, a man of high social and economical standing. Monsieur Enjolras."

* * *

Danielles' heart skipped a beat as she stared into the now familiar cold eyes of the man she'd wished never to see again. Her fingers twitched nervously at her sides and she found it difficult to remind herself to breathe. So not only was she to be married, but she was to be married to this insufferable man who seemed intent upon annoying her. She wished so badly to slap both Enjolras and her brother right then and there, but she was a lady, and had been raised to use her tongue to deliver blows; not her fists. +

"Monsieur Enjolras, I'm surprised you'd deign to be seen with such company as this. Surely you would prefer to associate with the less savory members of Parisian society, such as the highwaymen and prostitutes?" Raul gasped at her vulgar language and Bossuet grinned like a madman. "I will never marry you, monsieur. No amount of money or social redemption could possibly persuade me otherwise. Raul was very mistaken to think that I would allow myself to be bought or sold to the highest bidder." She felt her cheeks redden from anger and the embarrassment that the entire ordeal had visited upon her. She had never expressed any inclination to marry, and now Raul, the least trustworthy person in such matters, had betrothed her to a man she's most likely murder as a newlywed. No, she wasn't dramatic at all. Angry tears stung her eyes. They wouldn't understand. They couldn't possibly understand what marriage meant to her. It was not something, in her estimation, that could simply be arranged.

"Danielle, do _try_ to be reasonable." Raul chided belligerently.

"I _am_ reasonable, Raul. I will not marry for the reasons you want me to. I mans' character is infinitely more important, but you seem unable to comprehend that! I can't do this, Raul. I simply cannot." She was tired of trying to explain to deaf ears, so she did something considered less than polite. She whirled around and fled away. There were colors and voices whirling all around her, but her attention was caught only be the great doors that would lead her out of the Opera house and into the cool recesses of night. She was grateful for the midnight blue color of her dress, perhaps she could fade away from everything. Maybe even forgotten. Was this punishment for her rebellion? Was Raul so unkind? Her head spun and tears fell down her face. She ripped the mask off to allow them free reign. Pushing through the throng of people, she heard someone call her name, but it only served to fuel her desire to escape. She ran through the nearly deserted entrance hall, barely waited for the doors to be pushed open and her wrap to be placed over her shoulders, and rushed outside.

Danielle knew this wasn't over. Raul would surely go through and announce their 'engagement' and that stubborn, serious, and unwavering Enjolras will be her official betrothed. As she walked down the opera house steps she tried to imagine being the wife of a man such as that. He was arrogant, proud, and insensitive. He could only break her heart. But those thoughts proved too dangerous.

"Mademoiselle, stop running!" The last voice that she wanted to hear at that moment called out. She walked past the line of carriages calmly.

"Let me be, Monsieur." She whispered thickly. Her voice couldn't seem to go any louder. She pulled the hood of her cloak over her hair and walked between two carriages to cross the street. But she nearly ran into Enjolras, who was looking at her with that same unreadable expression he seemed to favor giving her. Danielle was too exhausted to try to run again or fight, so she stood there, wishing for this to be a terrible nightmare. At least nightmares have endings.

"I apologize, Mademoiselle. That was not the way any woman should be told of an engagement. Naturally, if you wish to quietly extricate yourself from this arrangement, I will understand." He offered formally.

"Thank you for your consideration, Monsieur, but you don't seem to understand. Raul is the self appointed executor of my life and future. He has been for a very long time. What I want is of no importance." She hung her head miserably. She didn't want to appear so vulnerable before him, but she had no other choice. She was tired of yelling.

"I know this isn't what you want." He looked around himself, seemingly grasping for some thought or idea, "Give him a year." His eyes flashed to her and she found she couldn't look away.

"Whatever do you mean?"

"Prove to him that you can be a proper lady, capable of choosing her own husband, in the space of a year. In that time I can call on occasion, if you wish." It occurred to Danielle then that Enjolras didn't want this marriage either and was offering to call because he felt guilty trying to get rid of her. But it was her best plan at the moment and she didn't mind that he didn't wish to marry her. She was certain that she would do anything to avoid being tethered to a man like that for her entire life.

"I'll do it." She resolved and caught herself. Why was she agreeing to this? She'd looked into his eyes and somehow felt as though he was the person she could trust most in the world. She was putting her future into this scheme of his and felt perfectly confident in it.

"It means giving up everything you care about and doing whatever Raul deems ladylike." He reminded her.

"I understand." She asserted firmly. Enjolras nodded and turned to leave.

"Wait, there's something more." She took a deep breath. He looked at her with an eyebrow quirked expectantly, "If you're going to call on me, but we're not telling people we're betrothed, people may say we're in love." She felt foolish for even suggesting such a thing, but she knew first hand how people could talk.

"You think there will be gossip about our sham of an engagement?" A ghost of a smirk crossed his face and she realized he was mocking her.

"I know there will be gossip, monsieur. There is always gossip when a republican student becomes engaged to a disreputable, wealthy woman who has fallen from grace. My brother must not know that you are an insurgent. Or, if he does, he cares not about it. He must think that I am too far gone for a man of rank and so has flung me to the first gentleman he laid eyes on!" She glared at him, "Why in Heavens name did you agree to this?" Perhaps she should have thought of that earlier, but there were more pressing matters to take her time. Enjolras grimaced and ducked his head, keeping his eyes on her. They hadn't broken that contact their entire conversation.

"I did not know it was you. My father thought it would do me good to have a proper wife; maybe she'd tame my 'wild ways'. He threatened to remove me from University and have me sent to their estate in Rouen if I didn't agree to the betrothal. A wife seemed the better option." He explained.

"Why don't you wish to live with your family?" She inquired.

"You are not my betrothed, Mademoiselle. We need not delve into personal matters." He asserted flatly.

"Of course, Monsieur. How foolish of me." She didn't want to know anything about him. She had surprised herself even by asking about it. "You should go back inside, Monsieur. It's supposed to be an outstanding Masquerade, you shouldn't miss it. I will speak to Raul on the morrow and inform you promptly of his decision. Good night." Danielle spun around quickly and tried to find the fiacre that Bossuet had hired. This time she was not followed.

* * *

Two roguish men peered at her from the shadows of a nearby building, planning their next move. She was a perfect target as she passed by them. obviously distressed, but the boss didn't want her yet. It wasn't time. They were just supposed to watch and study her. Get to know her better than herself. Know her habits, her dreams, her fears. Figure out how to break her without causing physical harm or harming her spunk. She would fetch a much better price that way. For her brother would pay that price, but only after they had broken the spirit of the aristocratic girl who'd had the nerve to meddle where she didn't belong.

* * *

**A/N: Sooo, too weird? I kinda like it. :) I bought a new laptop for school, so I officially have access to a real computer now! Awesome possum! Anyway, I hope you liked it, and I'll write soon. Please review! I'm working hard on this and would love constructive criticism. Thank you!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Soooo, here's my next chapter! Not as much insanity on my part for this one, which Enjy and Dani will be thankful for. :) I realized that I wrote very little French, whether in conversations or otherwise, and so stopped and did my best this chapter. **

Chapter 7

Danielle approached her brother the next day with her proposition. She served tea and brought his slippers to him. All for the sake of being a proper lady. She sat on a stool at his feet, the way she used to before she was sent to England. Raul didn't comply to the proposal at first, but it was Danielles' future at stake, so she fought. They eventually settled on half a year for her to aptly prove herself, and that Lady Baybridge would come to be a proper judge of her behavior. At the very least, it meant Danielle could see Eponine and Sabine sooner. As long as she could find a man to marry that would not care if she associated with beggars. But she'd cross that bridge when she came to it.

Although she wasn't sure what kind of effect Christine was having on Raul, Danielle knew that he never would have agreed to this weeks ago. Whatever change had taken place in him, Danielle was expressly grateful for. He did seem uncharacteristically absent minded, though. Perhaps it was just a symptom of that disease called love. There had been rumors circulating, which led Danielle to believe that Raul's absent mindedness was partly because of the mystery of the Opera. Christine seemed to be a very sweet, kind girl, but Danielle couldn't help but feel that there was something not quite right about her. But, she said nothing of her worries to Raul. She didn't want him choosing who she'd marry, so she wouldn't harp about his lady love.

Danielle sent a note to Enjolras explaining the details of the arrangement. She received no reply. It only served to convince her that it was a blessing that she would not be marrying the revolutionary.

* * *

It was the morning of Lady Baybridges' arrival, exactly a fortnight after the Masquerade. Danielle had been on perfect behavior since then, and even took extra care in her appearance. She pulled on a conservative deep blue day dress with pressed, white cuffs and collar. She pinned her mothers amethyst brooch to her neck while Annette styled her hair into a simple braided chignon.

It was all too difficult. She didn't want to do this. Looking at her reflection in the gold framed mirror, Danielle grimaced at herself in distaste. It was only six months. She could do it. Perhaps she could become a nun, instead.

Raul walked her outside as Lady Baybridges' carriage rolled to a stop. They waited in the garden as she stepped out with the help of a footman.

"Ah, Raul, I see you've found quite a lovely home here! I do hope that Paris has been kept abreast of all the recent scientific breakthroughs of sanitation. It would be a shame to have another Cholera outbreak." Lady Baybridge spoke in flawless French dialect. Doubtless from the dozens of governesses and instructors she'd had as a young woman, all clamoring to teach her every possible thing she'd need to know to be a proper English Lady.

If there was one thing to be said about Lady Baybridge, it was that she was beautiful, and that beauty was just about as deep as a puddle. She had a youthful face, a lovely figure, and hair that hadn't greyed so much as turned blonde. Her dress had been perfectly pressed and tailored to fit her like a glove, as any proper ladies fashion would. Danielle smiled at the idea of the Lady taking up half the sitting room with her enormous hoop skirt.

"That was a number of years ago, Milady, and you can rest assured that you will not catch Cholera during your stay in Paris. Would you like to come inside? Our maid concocted some petit fours for you to partake of." Raul was all restrained politeness, as was the English fashion. The boy was like a chameleon, he could adapt and change every aspect of himself to suit whatever company he was in. Danielle had seen him do it many times.

"Dear boy, surely you must know that a proper lady never expresses any kind of excitement over food. However, I will deign to enter your humble home." With a swish of her cottage sized skirts, the honorable Lady Baybridge blew past them and into the house. Being the Vicompte, Raul entered next, followed by Danielle. She braced herself for a very long six months.

There was a squeaking sound behind her, which sounded like the gate opening, and she turned on the top of the steps to look. Enjolras was standing there, with what appeared to be a bouquet of daisies and his usual thoughtful gaze. He walked forward to meet her, stopping at the bottom of the steps with the daisies casually in one hand at his side.

"I'm calling on you today because that woman is here and it would be well for me to make my impression." He informed her stiffly.

"You can't simply come here unannounced, Monsieur. Lady Baybridge just arrived and is very tired from her journey. Please, come later." She dropped down a step, trying to encourage him to back away, but he stood his ground. Insufferable man. Now she was much too close for her own comfort, but was also too proud to go back.

"I believe it is a perfect time for introductions. She's tired from her long journey, as you say, and less likely to completely irritate me." Enjolras gestured for her to precede him into the house with that all too familiar grim expression.

"It seems to me that every person in Paris, no matter their status, has some ground to irritate you, Monsieur." Danielle cocked her eyebrow.

"It seems to me that you enjoy irritating even the most patient of gentlemen, Mademoiselle." Enjolras immediately replied.

"Only when their so deluded as to think they're very patient."

"May I enter your house, or should I ring the bell and ask for Raul?" He gave her the ultimatum. Danielle thought for a moment. She knew it was a losing battle to make him leave, and there would probably be more important battles to fight later, so why exhaust all her efforts on this one? She stood back on the top of the steps and wisely chose to let him win this time. Without a word she swept into the house, gestured to Alain in a sign that Enjolras was to be made welcome, and walked to the sitting room. Without listening to whatever boring speech Raul was making, she sat gingerly on a cushioned chair facing the door and waited.

"Monsieur Enjolras calling" Alain entered and announced.

"Thank you, Alain." Danielle dismissed him with a smile. Enjolras passed the man as he came into the room. The other man gave the boy a nod and friendly grin.

"You are too soft, Danielle. Servants will forget their place." Lady Baybridge sniffed. Danielle nodded respectfully and looked to Enjolras to see his reaction. On his face was a look of pure loathing, which he quickly covered when the object of his emotion turned to look at him.

"Ah, Madam! How right you are!" He drawled pompously. "There seems to be no end to the ignorance of servants. I say! We must teach them all a lesson." Danielle's jaw dropped in shock. What was he doing?

"Lady Baybridge, this is Danielles betrothed, Monsieur Enjolras." Raul politely introduced so that the Lady would be able to speak properly to Enjolras.

"What sort of family do you come from, boy?" Lady Baybridge demanded, peering at him over the spectacles she really didn't need, but they were the fashion.

"I come from old money, Madam, which is fortunate considering how I abhor trade and working." He scoffed and sat down with great flair. Danielle only watched, horrified at the spectacle and mockery he was creating.

"Old money is very good." Lady Baybridge noted, "How much money, if I may?"

"I am to inherit my fathers fortune and estate in Rouen upon his death, and until then I'm given enough per year to live as comfortably as I wish and attend parties as often as I choose."

"Do you have any siblings?"

"None, Madam. I prefer it that way, my mothers love and affection was all devoted to me as a child."

_Which, translated, means you're a spoiled _enfant, _and completely self satisfied, _Danielle thought. Her expression turned sour.

"Raul, you chose well." Lady Baybridge congratulated. Danielle was going to be sick. She just wanted to leave.

"Enjolras is also a student at the University, Milady." Raul supplied.

"Furthering your mind, I suppose? I've encouraged Danielle to do that, but she's never been a willing child." Danielle didn't correct her by saying that by 'furthering her mind', Lady Baybridge meant going to an academy to learn to be proper and coy to catch a husband. "What do you think of her dress, Monsieur? I don't believe that color looks well on her, but perhaps she'd be more inclined to listen to you." Lady Baybridge suggested. Enjolras stood, walked towards Danielle, and appraised her gown intently.

"Indeed. that shade of pink does seem to give your skin a yellowish tone that's very unbecoming. Especially with such unremarkable hair. You would do well to burn the dress and wear a wig in the future." He informed her imperiously. Her spine stiffened.

"And I suppose you're an expert of women's fashion, Monsieur. You must consider that a great achievement." She brushed it off.

"Oh I really do, Mademoiselle. It's shocking how many ladies in society are blind to proper fashions and styles." His back was facing the other two people in the room, so he took that opportunity to flash a smirk at her.

""It's a good thing you're there to tell them all how hideous they look." She smiled sweetly at him.

"Indeed! Many women just don't know how ugly they are until one tells them." Enjolras drawled foppishly.

"You're such a benefit to mankind!" Danielle tried her best to hide her annoyance by infusing every syllable she spoke with all the sarcasm she could muster. She was too tired of people in general, and this man especially.

"I like to think so." He sniffed arrogantly. Danielle rolled her eyes, stood up, and went to pace back and forth in a corner of the room. He was acting like an ignorant fop and she hoped he realized that this didn't help their cause any. Why was he doing this?

"How do you feel about this trial period, Monsieur?" Raul asked Enjolras, who sighed deeply and returned to his chair.

"I believe that women are flighty creatures. So very delicate and emotional. But hopefully this trial shows no weakness of character in Mademoiselle." He preened.

"She has a sizeable dowry, but surely there must be some of your estate you'd be wiling to part with for her hand?" Raul pressed. Enjolras glanced at Danielle in surprise before resuming his façade once more.

"I would be happy to contribute," He smirked, "Should Mademoiselle prove acceptable." Lady Baybridge gasped quietly while Danielle paled. A proper gentleman would never say something so condescending, so insensitive. Danielle swept from the room, hoping Lady Baybridge would assume that the boy had damaged her sensibilities. She walked briskly to the kitchen, shut the door, and leaned against it. Covering her eyes with her hands, she replayed the dreadful scene in her head. How could he say such things to her? It was enough to humiliate any girl, but he said it in front of the two people most likely to judge her every move. It was not the act of a gentleman.

" Mademoiselle Danielle, are you alright?" Annette's voice drifted through her thoughts. Danielle dropped her hands and straightened. The other woman was at a counter, hands frozen in the act of chopping carrots. Her face was gentle and kind. The face of the mother Danielle had never known.

"I am fine, Annette. Just a dizzy spell." She smiled reassuringly, "I would like to speak with Alain."

"Of course, he is in the garden picking herbs for me. He will still be able to talk, though." Annette smiled warmly, "Do take a _Mille-Feuille_ with you. I made too many for Lady Baybridge. She seems to not have a taste for them."

"_Merci. _Lady Baybridge doesn't have a taste for many things, Annette." Danielle smiled, took a piece of the cake, and went out the kitchen door that led to the garden. There were only two doors to the house, the front entrance, and the door in the kitchen. The latter door was to be always bolted unless someone was in the yard. There had been trouble with _gamines _sneaking in and stealing food from the pantry, and so Raul had implemented the rule.

_"Bonjour, Mademoiselle. Avez-vous besoin d'aide?" _Alain greeted from his kneeling position by a raised garden bed. Danielle had stressed from the moment they met that Annette and Alain must not stand upon formality with her. Unless, of course, Lady Baybridge or Raul were watching.

"_Oui, _I need you to make two more baskets, one for Sabine and one for the Gorbeau family. Also, find Eponine and tell me how she is, will you? Tell me how they all are." She practically begged.

"Of course, Mademoiselle. Would you like me to forget to inform the Vicompte of this?" Alain asked her seriously.

"If you would, please. I think he wouldn't consider it very ladylike." Danielle smiled and turned back to the house. She was so grateful to him and Annette. They seemed always prepared to help her in anything.

She walked back inside, but definitely was not going back to the sitting room. She would not subject herself to that. Although she could not decide what sort of person Enjolras was, she knew what sort of person she was: a person that would not be subjected to such cruelty. She knew how she was to be treated, and such a lack of respect and kindness was unacceptable. Her anger was just and completely called for. The more she thought of his new personality the more she couldn't breathe from frustration. She scowled in the general direction of the sitting room, grabbed her shawl, and left the house. She rushed down the path to the gate and slammed it as hard as she could behind her.

* * *

**Thank you so much for the review, Angel-Unknown! I'm doing my absolute best and you've really helped encourage me. :) I hope this chapter was as good as expected. It's shorter than I planned, but this was the best stopping point for now. **

**Thank you for reading! Review, if you like! That would be pretty stupendous. :)**


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